Verse this chapter: Stargate SG-1
Canon Timeline: Early-ish

Chapter One:
It was such a small, unassuming thing. They'd unearthed it in a far corner of Harry's parents' vault just after his nineteenth birthday. A flat silver disc about the size of a coin which flipped open to reveal a half dozen little knobs and gizmos and had a small switch on one side. If the switch was in a certain position, the entire thing could be spun around on its base while making a soft clicking sound. It was obviously meant to go on the wrist and perform some sort of function, as it wasn't ostentatious enough to be a piece of jewelry. It almost looked like some kind of muggle machinery part, if it weren't for the looping foreign script around the edges and the sturdy black band it was attached to.

"Maybe it's a watch," Hermione had suggested.

So, Harry had put it on and begun fiddling with it, watching the tiny crystals imbedded in the inner workings begin to glow softly. After all, if Hermione seemed unconcerned, it had to be harmless.

"Give it a twist, mate!" Ron had said and Harry had done just that. It clicked rapidly as he turned it in a careless half circle, intent on winding it.

'I'm going to kill them,' he thought grimly as he ducked another streak of orange energy. Rolling behind a large boulder and ducking down, he continued grumbling to himself. 'If I ever get back, I'm going to murder them both, messy and violent. Then, I'll hang their bodies from my front door and construct a barricade around the house. Anyone who wants in will have to consent to a thorough cavity search and all items of suspicious origin will be destroyed before they make it into my presence.'

Peeking carefully out from behind his dubious cover, he waved the wand in his right hand while simultaneously squeezing off a shot with the strange gun in his left. It had been shoved into his hand during the confusion by an older man wearing military fatigues just before an explosion had rocked the area. People in tan, to match their desert surroundings no doubt, were running for their lives as small fighter-type craft shot bolts of energy at them. A larger craft was dropping energy balls at the ground, causing the violent tremors and explosions that regularly sent sand into the air only to rain back down on anyone who had been too close...and had survived.

Harry wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but he was intelligent enough to tell "guys who will kill me" from "guys who may not kill me." Thus, if he made himself useful in their escape to wherever that ring of water was taking them, he could hopefully convince them to listen to reason and not execute him on the spot.

A well placed banishing charm sent a large man in armor hurtling through the air before he could deliver the killing blow to a downed young man in tan, his staff landing several feet away. With a growl and a mutter of "I can't believe I'm doing this", he launched himself out from behind his boulder and sprinted across the intervening space, dodging energy blasts with all the speed and skill of one used to dodging spells from Death Eaters on a regular basis. Reaching the man who was obviously wounded and only now beginning to pick himself up, he skidded to a halt on his knees next to him and threw one of the man's arms over his shoulders. He began to help him up, only to be forced to roll both away as another bolt of energy slammed into the ground where they had just been.

"Stop that!" he exclaimed angrily, using the strange gun to bring down the enemy with one shot of crackling blue energy. He was tired, dirty and at the end of his patience with all things strange and bizarre. Whipping his wand around in an arc, the nearest line of advancing armored troops were sent flying into those behind them. Even one of the smaller craft above them faltered before falling out of the sky with a heavy thud right onto it's allies. Magic and technology don't mix.

With an exasperated huff, he helped the man to his feet and began a staggered run toward the water circle thing. Two men and a woman in green camouflage had taken up defensive positions around the circle and were laying down suppressive fire as a fourth man with glasses hurried the escapees through. Hoping to all that was good and just that they were not committing ritual suicide or something equally ironic, he helped his injured dead weight to tumble through before following after him.

The burning impact of a lucky shot to his back was a painful counterpart to the frigid cold he experienced before collapsing to his knees on a metal ramp. He panted heavily for a moment, bent over and supporting himself with his hands, before looking up. Obviously a muggle military base, he decided as he watched people in uniforms and fatigues, some in lab coats, helping injured people onto stretchers before hurriedly wheeling them away. His vision began to dim and the pain in his back dulled to a throb just as he felt two sets of hands under his arms. Unable to stand, he let them drag him down the ramp and gently lift him onto a gurney. The last thing he knew before darkness claimed him were the concerned eyes of the female doctor he'd seen giving orders and a prick in his arm as she spoke calming words to him.

When he next woke his head was foggy and pounding viciously, his entire body ached and he had to pee. Upon forcing his uncooperative eyes to open, he also found that his vision was blurry and, judging by the unholy brightness and smell of antiseptic, he was in an infirmary. There were also voices from somewhere to his left.

"I'm telling you, Jack. He's not one of ours," a man's voice stated calmly.

"Well, he's not ours," another man, obviously 'Jack', said with a slightly annoyed tone. "And he's not a snakehead or a Jaffa. So, what? He's just a guy who decided he'd take a walk through the desert on a supposedly uninhabited world during a surprise attack by Toughnewt-"

"Tefnut," yet another man corrected before informing them in a rapid babble, "a minor goddess of water, or rather moisture, I guess you'd call her Ra's niece, who was supposedly created by Atum from his mucus...although according to some texts, Atum was a hermaphrodite who created both Tefnut and Shu by impregnating himself or masturbating and-"

"Daniel! Daniel!" Jack shouted almost frantically, interrupting the prattle. "Overshare." There was a drawn-out pause before he continued, "Anyway..."

The first man took up where they'd left off with a strained, "No, I am not saying that. It's doubtful his appearance there at such a critical moment was a coincidence and yes, he helped us, but he's not-" The man cut himself off as he became irritated that 'Jack' apparently wasn't listening to him and seconds later his voice changed and became deeper, echoey and all around creepy. "The identities of all those at the base are known to us and he is not one of them. Nor is he a spy, as we would have likely noticed him earlier. As you said, he is not Tok'ra, Tauri, Goa'uld or Jaffa. He is a mystery, as are the abilities he displayed."

"What abilities?" a woman asked from somewhere closer to him. A woman who's voice he recognized as belonging to the one who'd likely sedated him and he quickly dubbed her 'Doctor'. There was the click of a pen and a quick scratching on paper as she began taking notes.

Another woman answered from the group congregated farther away. "It was almost like telekinesis," she began eagerly. "He waved his hand, or whatever was in his hand, and Jaffa were thrown back or knocked out. He even dropped a Death Glider out of midair! We would've had a lot more casualties if it hadn't been for him."

"Yes," yet another man said from the group, making Harry wonder just how many people had gathered to discuss him. "He saved my life. He was only a short distance from the Stargate and could have easily escaped, yet he chose to help me instead. Both Lantash and I owe him our lives. We would not have survived had it not been for his selfless actions."

'Okay,' Harry thought to himself, having quickly closed his eyes to feign sleep when he'd first heard the voices. 'It was a really good idea to save that guy. Sounds like a suspicious lot and I doubt they'd be so willing to give me the benefit of the doubt if I'd just cut and run.'

"What's the diagnoses, Doctor?" still another man asked, or rather ordered. He had the tone of a man who was used to giving orders and getting respect from everyone around him. Definitely the big man in charge. He also had a drawling accent that the others did not. Harry had already decided that most of them seemed to be American. Or whatever this world's equivalent was. He didn't think he'd ever get over ending up in a world where all of Europe spoke American-English. Scary.

"Well, he's human, as far as I can tell," Doctor said, rustling papers and walking to the other side of the room. "That's what his DNA says anyway. I've been unable to conduct the standard MRI, or any other test really. Everytime I try, a strange energy renders all of my equipment useless. By the way, we'll need a new CT scanner, General. When we tried a head CT, his energy pulsed and it just...stopped working. We haven't been able to fix it since. I'm only assuming that he's not a Goa'uld since blood tests show no traces of Naquadah. Also, Sam, Teal'c and every Tok'ra who's been in the room with him says he's not." There was a pause and more rustling of paper before she continued. "The energy he possesses seems to dissipate after roughly forty minutes in any blood samples taken. He appears to have a moderately elevated metabolic rate which speeds up his healing significantly. I put him on a supplemental intravenous drip to be certain he gets the nutrients he needs, and removed it a few moments ago as he no longer seems to need it. The wound in his back is almost completely healed."

There were several shocked exclamations and the man with the creepy voice stated, "Even with the healing benefits of a symbiote, he should still be severely injured, if not barely clinging to life."

Doctor gave a huff at being interrupted. "Yes, well, be that as it may, the fact remains that in less than a day he has almost completely healed a near fatal wound. His body seems to store energy for later use. The moment I started the drip, his rate of healing skyrocketed. He's also become immune to three different sedatives and has an extremely high tolerance for most others."

"Conclusion, Doctor?" the General asked, obviously needing something more along the lines of a threat assessment than a scientific discovery.

"He's human," she stated succinctly, "probably mid-teens, with an incredibly potent immune system and an unknown energy that counteracts all electrical systems within two feet of him. If I were to make a guess, I'd say he's some sort of advanced human."

"And his energy? Is it a threat to this base?"

"Not to the best of my knowledge, sir. As I said, it seems to have a maximum radius of two feet and only the CT scanner has been destroyed. Everything else just needed a reboot."

"Well," Jack said in a falsely bright voice. "Shows over, boys and girls! Looks like we'll all just have to wait until he wakes up to get some answers."

Harry took this moment to make his presence known. Opening his eyes, he calmly and politely asked where he was.

Or rather, he tried to. What actually came out was more of a deranged gurgle followed by a surprised dry hack and ending with a ghastly moan.

There was a flurry of activity around him as those who had started to depart quickly returned and the doctor hurried to his bedside. "Easy," she said softly, bending over his prone form. "You were seriously injured."

He opened his mouth to try to speak again, but was stopped by a hand being placed behind his head and raising him up slightly. Too weak to protest, he could do nothing but allow it when the doctor trickled cool water into his mouth and urged him to swallow. Almost instantly his throat began working again and he made that fact known. "Who..? What..? Where..?" He frowned at his inability to form a complete sentence.

The doctor only smiled. "My name is Janet. Can you tell me yours?"

"Harry," he managed to croak out, glad for the first time that he was mistaken for being younger than he actually was. "Where am I?"

Janet looked up questioningly at someone and a bald man with a stern expression entered his line of sight. "You're in the SGC infirmary. On Earth," he added, almost as an afterthought. "I'm General Hammond, the leader of this facility. I have several questions for you, if you feel up to it."

Harry could sense that was not a question, but he was saved once again by the angel in the white lab coat. Doctor Janet Fraiser, from what he picked up from the arguing going on above him, was an unrelenting woman when it came to her patients. Much like a certain medi-witch from his school years, she was adamant that he would not be going anywhere or answering any questions until she gave him a clean bill of health. Hammond obviously respected her, but was reluctant to give in.

Harry used the brief respite to take stock of his condition. He was sore all over, but his head and vision were starting to clear as the last of the sedative wore off. He still had to pee, much to his dismay, because he clearly wasn't meant to be getting up anytime soon. Both his ankles and wrists were secured to the bed with restraints and he was wearing hospital pajamas. All of his belongings had been removed from his person, including his wand and that damned Not-Watch that had gotten him into this mess, even the earring he'd gotten two years ago in a bout of drunken rebellion, urged on by an equally inebriated Ron and Seamus.

This wasn't the first time Harry had ended up striped of all possessions and tied to a bed, much as he'd like to say it was. Since this crazy journey began he'd been chased by a pitchfork toting lynch mob, kidnapped by ninjas, kidnapped by pirates, kidnapped by ninja-pirates (he was still unsure how that one worked), kidnapped by space pirates, unknowingly recruited into an organization of evil, attacked by scantily clad young women with superpowers, met six different versions of himself including two females, met a multitude of demonlike creatures both good and bad, been blown up by a short redhead with a liking for explosions, been mistaken for a girl more times than he could count (he couldn't help that he was so pretty), been arrested for a variety of crimes, and had ended up unconscious in bed with no less than three princesses with no idea how he had gotten there. He was still trying to forget the guy with the whip who insisted he call him Count Sexybitch.

At this point, there wasn't much that could serve to panic Harry anymore. Mostly, he just found himself annoyed at everything. He just wanted to get home where he could put his best friends out of his misery and shun all human contact for the rest of his life.

With a sigh, he sent a small surge of magic down his arms to his hands, completely disintegrating the restraints. Then, he did the same to those around his ankles. He ignored the arguing doctor and general, as well as the group behind them who tensed and reached for weapons when they noticed his actions. Sitting up, despite the general full body ache, he swung his legs over the bed and glanced around. Upon spotting a door that likely led to a bathroom, he casually trudged over and disappeared inside.

Jack and Teal'c raised an eyebrow simultaneously. Daniel snickered. Sam suppressed laughter. The hodgepodge of Tauri and Tok'ra were both amused and wondering if they should go after their unknown visitor. He appeared completely nonthreatening with his slumped and bleary-eyed shuffle, but they all knew appearances could be deceiving.

Neither Hammond nor Fraiser had noticed the departure, too embroiled in their argument ("Sir!" "Doctor!" "Sir!" "Doctor!" "Sir!") to take note of those around them. Hammond, the stalwart general that he was, refused to let an unknown potential hostile go without interrogation. Janet, as a doctor and the mother of a teenager, insisted that her patient be treated with kindness and allowed to heal before any questions were asked.

The sound of a toilet flushing broke up the dispute.

After taking care of business, Harry returned to the room under the amused and disbelieving stares of the others. Without saying a word, he climbed back up on his bed, sat with crossed legs and looked up at the now silent group. Projecting as much innocence and trustworthiness as he could, he said simply, "I had to pee."

A chuckle, quickly cut off as he restrained himself, sounded from Jack and Harry looked over with a smile. Hammond frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted when Fraiser suddenly invaded Harry's personal space.

"Ack!" he exclaimed as he was blinded in first his right eye and then his left by a penlight. He flailed ineffectively in a futile effort to evade the doctor's attentions as she went about checking his pulse, blood pressure, heart rate, temperature and god only knows what else while simultaneously bombarding him with questions.

"How do you feel?"

"Fine."

"Your back? Any lingering pain?"

"Little itchy."

"Eyes are clear. How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Hmm. Signs of childhood malnutrition..."

"I am not short!"

From amongst the group of amused onlookers Jack snickered. "Maybe we should have the doc do the interrogating from now on."

"I heard that, Colonel!" Turning to Hammond, she reluctantly conceded, "He seems perfectly fine to me, sir. His wounds have healed and he's completely thrown off the sedative. Much as I would prefer it, I see no reason to keep him here any longer."

Hammond nodded seriously and motioned two guards forward from their posts next to the door. Ten minutes later, Harry found himself chained to a chair in a cell being questioned.

"What's your name, kid?"

"You can call me Doctor."

"That's not a name."

"John Smith, then."

"What planet do you come from?"

"Gallifrey."

"Who do you serve?"

"Colonel Ronald MacSanders."

"Occupation?"

"Oh, mostly just Star Trekkin' across the universe, but only going forward 'cause I can't find reverse."

"What were you doing on that planet?"

"Well, you see, I'm banned from Argo..."

"ENOUGH!"

Apparently, Harry's winsome smile and twinkling eyes (ala Dumbledore) did little to win over the soldier who was rapidly turning purple and beginning to foam at the mouth. Unable to resist, Harry cocked his head to the side innocently and said, "You look like you could use some shore leave."

"AARRGGHH!!" the man exclaimed and lunged at Harry with fingers crooked, intent on clawing his eyes out, only to be dragged away and sedated.

'Wow,' Harry thought with a smile. 'That would have sucked. I need my eyes to read minds.'

By way of skimming his interrogator's surface thoughts and responding to them appropriately, he had confused and infuriated three different men. He was surprised they hadn't figured out what he was doing yet, but the interrogators weren't really in much of a condition to explain why his seemingly random words had set them off. He watched in amusement as a group of soldiers and medical personnel carted away the babbling, incoherent interrogator.

'Note to self: find out what Star Trek and Doctor Who are. Also, that chicken looked tasty.'

A/N: Just to explain, the interrogator's surface thoughts were something along the line of, "I forgot to set my VCR to record Doctor Who." Cue random thoughts of various Doctor Who episodes. "I'm hungry. Do I want MacDonald's or KFC?" Cue images of burgers and chicken. "Stupid song! Get out of my head!" Cue Star Trekkin' to play in his head. "No! Get rid of that song with another!" Cue Banned from Argo. "ARG! KILL! BOY!"

A/N2: Most chapters will not be this long. Just needed to explain how he ended up travelin' the 'verses.

A/N3: Feel free to suggest anime/tv shows/books/movies/etc that he should visit.